On the Mend
by TrekkieGurrl
Summary: Ensign Walchup's adventures with the crew of the Enterprise


I woke with a start; the pain was the first thing I noticed, then the noise, and then the fact that I couldn't see. There was something covering my eyes, but when I tried to lift my hand to move it, cool fingers caught my wrist, "Be still. Doctor! She's awake!"

"Oh good, means she'll live." I knew that bedside manner if nothing else, I was back on the Enterprise.

"Good to have you with us again Ensign Walchup," The doctor continued, "What hurts the worst? Need to assess if there's been any nerve damage."

I swallowed thickly, throat dry, "Back," I finally managed, little more than a croak even to my own ears, "Neck down."

"How far?"  
I whined, I know I did, "Waist." Trying to pinpoint it just made it hurt worse. I took as deep a breath as I could, willing myself to relax, finally realizing that the pain seemed to be radiating down my spine in waves, "Spine mostly."

"That's a good sign. Can you wiggle your toes?"

It took a moment's concentration, but I managed, eliciting a joyful exclamation from the person beside me, that I now realized _wasn't_ one of the medical staff, but was, in fact, the only person on the crew younger than myself.

"Yeah, it's great kid, now move over and let me work."

There was the sound of a chair moving, and then Doctor McCoy's voice, closer now thanks to the privacy screen that I hadn't heard go up, "Kid hasn't left your side since the two of you got back. Now this is probably going to sting, if it burns, let me know, because that means something's wrong." I managed to nod, movement easier now that the pain had begun to ebb. I recognized the tingling, falling-asleep feeling of what we'd affectionately dubbed a Knerve Knitter, something to re-grow and stimulate damaged nerve tissue. The tingle never did become a burn, and eventually dulled out completely, replaced by a comfortably cool weight along the length of my spine.

"Alright, enough of that, now comes the hard part." Whatever had been covering my eyes was lifted away and I cringed against the sudden brightness, "Lights!" McCoy barked, dimming everything. That was mostly better, except the sting from the brightness was still there, enough to make my eyes water, though I didn't feel any tears, "Well that's a good sign, they still work. How many fingers?" My brow furrowed, trying to see more than just shapes, finally shaking my head, "Fuzzy and blobby."

"Hm, better than nothing." Was the reply, "We'll keep track, get you back up and running in no time. Hold still, going to get you a fresh bandage."

For as gruff as McCoy tended to sound, he was surprisingly gentle as he placed a folded pad of bandage over my eyes, holding it in place with another strip, wrapped around my head with the end tucked in. It was cool with burn ointment and it already felt better, "What happened?" I asked, voice still a croak. I could almost hear him thinking that one over, "You know how long you were down there?" He finally asked, voice low.

I had to think about that one, finally shaking my head, "No. Felt like forever."

"It was almost a year, they took the whole operation underground so we couldn't ever get a lock on to beam you out. It was the kid who found the place again, and you know how the captain likes harebrained schemes." He sighed, "You remember what they did to you down there?"

I had to think about that one too, all I could remember was pain and tests. Endless tests. They said they were doing it all to make us better, to compensate for natural weaknesses, "Wings." I groaned, "They tacked on wings." It wasn't as bad as what they'd done to some of the others, I remembered that much.

"Tacked on is about right." McCoy agreed, "But you were using them. One got broken in the jailbreak, but seems to be healing okay. You'll probably be able to use them again."

I shook my head, "Take them off."

He sighed, "Don't think we can, it'd be too much of a shock to your system, worse than amputating a limb, there's a whole extension of your circulatory system just for them, whole branches of arteries and new bone structure. We simply don't have the technology."

I could feel the wings now, settled around me, soft and warm like fine kid leather. Thin like a bat's. They'd been grown from my own DNA so that my body wouldn't reject them once they were attached. I remembered them telling me this, that those who had come before made my transformation easier, just as mine would pave the way for those who were to come.

It was enough to make me queasy, I nodded, "Okay." A dry, half-cracked laugh, "Have to alter my uniforms."

He froze for a moment, but laughed as well as soon as he realized I meant it, "You want me to let the kid back in? He's been staying with you like some lost puppy."

I was about to say no, because I didn't want him to see the wings, but then I remembered that he already had, as had the rest of the rescue party, and any of the crew that hadn't seen them would probably have heard about them by now, so I nodded, "Go ahead." I listened to the changing of the guard, McCoy's firm: "Let her rest if she needs it." And Pavel's quiet, "Yes doctor."

The chair creaked as he settled beside me, taking my hand gently, "So, you are awake."

I nodded, "Don't you have anything better to do than to keep me company?"

"No." He answered quickly, "Captain's orders. I stay with you until you are fit for duty, and then for a week more."

I sighed, "So you get to make sure they didn't screw me up too bad." I realized how bitter I sounded, shaking my head, "I'll live, promise."

"Da." He said decisively, squeezing my hand, "You are strong. The Menders did not suspect, the Captain suspects a little, but only a little." This amused him; as if it were some grand secret he'd just discovered, "You had many brothers?" By the tone I could tell that he had his head cocked like a curious puppy.

I was puzzled by the question, but I answered all the same, "Four, all older."  
"Ah-ha!" He exclaimed, excited now, "I knew this, you had to learn to keep up, da?"  
I couldn't help but smile, he was right after all, "Yeah, I did. Mom always said I was the worst of them, always pushing the hardest, running the fastest, and coming up with the most trouble-making plans."

"I knew this too." He added, and I knew from experience that he'd nodded decisively.

A wave of exhaustion swept over me, and I stifled a yawn against the pillow, I felt the momentary brush of fingers through my hair, "Rest now." He murmured, and I didn't really have a choice, slipping off to sleep.

* * *

The next few weeks were like some inverse version of my time with the Menders, my doctor going about putting me to working order, and my watchdog encouraging me to get out and about instead of making me stay put, and he was good at it. Even though my eyes didn't seem to be getting better. If things were backlit I could at least make out shapes, but little else, and the doctor said that it would come back, but next to brains, eyes were the trickiest thing to work on. He said that you've got to be careful with them because they're squishy.

Finally I was cleared for duty again, even though I still couldn't see.

My first day back on active duty, my new watchdog presented me with two gifts, the first, he explained, was from all of Engineering, and was a smart plastic screen to cover my workspace, reactive to the touchscreen display, giving me the feel of actual buttons and switches.

The second gift was more puzzling, a long, narrow swatch of cloth, I ran it between my hands, finally asking, "What is it?"

"From where they fixed your uniform." He explained, "For your eyes, so that you are looking together, like you planned it instead of wearing a bandage like you have escaped the doctor's clutches."

"I heard that." Was McCoy's gruff reply from across the office, and I couldn't help but smile, measuring out the rough center of the blindfold and tying it on quickly, "You know it would have been wasted if you hadn't heard it doc."

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here kid, you too Walchup."

Chekov laughed at that, pressing the screen back into my hands, "Come, you do not need me to guide you, you have walked this way every day." He'd been saying things like that for the past few days, and he was right, which worried me a little, that I was getting used to being blind, my pace was slower than it used to be, but not by much.

A cheer went up when we got to Engineering, and I could feel myself blushing, especially when most of the crew came forward to greet me, brushing fingers against my arm or shoulder or hand.

Finally Scotty's voice broke through the hubbub, "Alright, alright, she's all in one piece, how about we all get back to work before this bird falls out of the sky?" I could tell he was amused all the same, especially when he gave me a quick, one-armed hug, "Good to have you back. You need help to your station?"

I was about to decline, but thought better of it, "Yes please Chief, thanks."

He nodded, arm still looped around my shoulders, "'Course, can't have my second best girl getting hurt just trying to get to work." He'd always called me that, and it always made me laugh, since everyone knew the Enterprise herself was his best girl.

My first day back was surprisingly uneventful, it took me a little longer to run my usual diagnostics, getting used to the new screen, but I did well enough, and caught up before long, calling information back when it was asked for, passing it on ahead, back in the heart of the ship again. Some people spoke of Engineering like the brain of the ship, all the information flowing through it like neurons. But it's really the heart; all the information flowing through is the blood and the life of the ship, because even a brain needs a heart to survive.

It was marvelous to be amid that flow again, it hardly seemed like it had been a year since I'd stood at that station, forwarding those tasks, everything still ran as smoothly as it ever did and before I knew it my shift was over. I knew I'd be back in the morning though, and that made me smile.


End file.
